Bai Lan and Jiang Zichun arrived at the Ning estate. Bai Lan had met Ning Muyan several times before, so though he felt a bit formal, he was not nervous. Jiang Zichun, however, treated the occasion with utmost seriousness.
The father and son entered and offered their respects. Jiang Zichun presented the herbs, and Bai Lan, aware of the Ning family’s wealth, worried the modest gift might be dismissed. To his relief, Ning Muyan was courteous.
“Qingmo, put away the herbs from Master Jiang,” Ning Muyan instructed his attendant.
Bai Lan felt reassured. Even a simple acknowledgment from Ning Muyan was a sign of respect.
After brief pleasantries, Bai Lan was excused, leaving Jiang Zichun and Ning Muyan to talk. He waited outside with the servants, drinking tea, but stayed polite and did not eavesdrop.
Though Jiang Zichun had heard of Ning Muyan’s reputation, this was his first personal meeting. Ning Muyan’s courtesy left a good impression, putting him at ease.
“Bai Lan grew up in the countryside, free-spirited and unlettered. Working in a high-ranking household may make him clumsy. I hope Young Master Ning will be patient.”
“No matter,” Ning Muyan said. “He goes only as a physician, not a servant in the household.”
“I thank you for your consideration,” Jiang Zichun said, bowing slightly.
Although Ning Muyan held no official post yet, his lineage and prospects were eminent. A bow from a commoner was appropriate, yet Ning Muyan gently lifted him, saying, “Master Jiang, no need for excessive formality.”
Jiang Zichun was impressed by his humility. After a cup of tea, Huang Zhixiang guided him out.
“Haha, Master Jiang and Young Master Ning seemed to enjoy their conversation,” Huang Zhixiang said.
“Yes, Young Master Ning is scholarly and kind. Serving him will be a great blessing for Bai Lan.”
Huang Zhixiang chuckled. Though he had occasional duties at the estate, he had never seen Ning Muyan so affable. Jiang Zichun’s sincere praise only deepened his respect.
“Yes. Our young Master Ning treats people differently, and there is meaning behind it. Bai Lan following him will have a promising future.”
After some words, they left. Jiang Zichun and Bai Lan returned home, preparing for Bai Lan’s departure to serve at the Ning estate. Ning Muyan would leave the manor the next day, so Bai Lan needed to pack and be ready to leave with him.
In addition, Jiang Zichun would also be taking a temporary post at the manor.
Huang Zhixiang escorted the father and son out of the estate before returning to report to Ning Muyan.
“Though the manor had no prior dealings with Master Jiang, the villagers spoke of his benevolence. Everyone praises him. The Liu family, however, abused their power—they are far from virtuous,” Huang Zhixiang reported.
“What do you intend to do with the Lius?” Ning Muyan asked, standing over his desk as he bent to write.
“Seize half their property,” he said coolly. “If that boy dares any further mischief, there’s no need to keep him.”
A chill ran down Huang Zhixiang’s spine. “And Liu Da… should he return to the estate?”
“Yes. It’s not leniency—I simply prefer to keep him under watch rather than let him stir trouble in the village.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ning Muyan set down his brush, glancing at Huang Zhixiang. Today he was in a good mood. “You handled this well. Keep your mouth shut and do your work diligently. I won’t forget it.”
Then he raised his brows at Qingmo, who immediately understood and brought over the freshly written paper.
Huang Zhixiang saw a single bold character—忠, “Loyalty”—and knelt to receive it, bowing to Ning Muyan. “Thank you for your gift, Young Master.”
The value of Ning Muyan’s calligraphy was one thing; the entire Huang family worked in the estate, and being in the young master’s favor was a benefit for all. Now that he knew the reason for the reward, he understood how to act in the future.
“Life in a grand estate is complicated. Once you’re in the household, be cautious—do more, speak less, and avoid making enemies,” Jiang Zichun admonished as he helped Bai Lan pack.
Bai Lan chuckled. “Father, you talk as if I’m entering the imperial court.”
“This is no different from young masters and young ladies of prominent families entering a noble household to serve,” Jiang Zichun replied.
Bai Lan slung the two small bundles over his shoulders. He didn’t have much to carry. He remembered that during his previous visits to the Ning estate, servants could go home for brief visits, giving him slightly more freedom than a concubine would have. Anything missing could be sent later, and his father would occasionally bring things from the city.
“I understand, Father. I will be careful.”
Jiang Zichun had been repeating his instructions since dawn—not out of annoyance but because his son had never left home before.
“Remember what I said, and get moving. We can’t keep Young Master Ning waiting.”
“Mm.”
Jiang Zichun reached to take the bundles from Bai Lan, but Bai Lan held them himself. “I can carry them. Just see me off.”
Father and son locked the door and hurried to the village entrance to meet Ning Muyan’s carriage.
Along the way, they encountered Liu Wu. The tall young man, once arrogant, now cowered like a mouse before a cat, avoiding Bai Lan’s gaze entirely. Bai Lan ignored him and urged his father to move faster.
By the time they reached the village exit, the Ning carriage had already arrived. Qingmo reported to Ning Muyan, who stepped down and saw Bai Lan struggling under the weight of the bundles, looking tiny and fragile. Qingmo quickly took the bundles from him.
Jiang Zichun bowed to Ning Muyan. Seeing Bai Lan so small before the young master, his eyes grew misty, but he waved him forward. “Go quickly. The sooner you reach the city, the cooler it will be.”
Bai Lan nodded and climbed into the spacious carriage. As the wheels turned, he couldn’t resist poking his head out. “Father… go home. You don’t need to see me off.”
Jiang Zichun walked a few steps beside the carriage before halting at his son’s words.
The villagers, who had been working in the fields, saw Bai Lan board the large carriage from afar. Not recognizing the people inside, they didn’t dare approach and waited until the carriage was gone.
“Master Jiang, where is Bai Lan going?” someone asked.
“Off to the city to study medicine,” Jiang Zichun replied, hands behind his back.
The villagers pressed for more, but Jiang Zichun offered no further details.
Once on the wider, smoother road, Bai Lan slouched inside the carriage, shoulders drooping, head hanging low.
He felt adrift in thought, so much so that Ning Muyan, sitting opposite, looked at him several times but did not detect his mood.
Lowering his gaze, Ning Muyan glanced at the pale, slightly gloomy face beside him. He feared Bai Lan might sigh aloud any moment.
“Your father isn’t selling you off to the Ning estate. If you ever wish to return, just tell me in advance.”
Hearing this permission, Bai Lan looked up and said quietly, “Thank you, Young Master.”
Though he thanked him, his expression remained distant. Ning Muyan noticed the lack of sparkle on that small face. Clearly, words alone hadn’t reached his heart.
A silence settled in the carriage. Ning Muyan curved his long fingers thoughtfully. With just the two of them alone, he felt he should say more. He didn’t want to appear aloof; otherwise, Bai Lan might feel a strict master-servant divide and keep his distance.
Recalling the earlier smooth interactions at the manor, which had all been carefully orchestrated, he now found himself uncertain in front of someone so earnest.
“What about the jade pendant I took that day?” Bai Lan muttered, thinking of his previous unpleasant experiences at the Ning estate. His spirits were low, but now his status had changed. He told himself things should be different—at least a little better.
So he thought that by the time they reached the Ning estate, it would be close to noon—just in time for lunch. He wondered what the household would be serving today.
He remembered that the meals at the Ning estate had always been excellent. Many of the senior servants were well-fed and plump, and meat appeared on both lunch and dinner tables with some regularity.
Now, as the physician responsible for Ning Muyan’s care, he was still a servant, but one with a slightly more dignified status than those who washed clothes or cooked. The meals should not be lacking; he would likely get some meat.
He only didn’t know whether the main dish today would be Dongpo Braised Pork or Song Sao Fish Soup. Today was neither the first nor the fifteenth of the lunar month, nor any festival day, so he probably wouldn’t get such lavish dishes. Still, with the hot weather, he might get a seasonal snack, something like lotus leaf-wrapped rice.
Each of the Ning family’s principal members had their own compound with a separate kitchen. As the heir, Ning Muyan enjoyed the best of everything; the kitchen staff were highly skilled.
Bai Lan had once been fortunate enough to sneak a meal there twice. The taste had been unforgettable—so much so that he remembered it even after his previous life. Back then, as a lowly concubine, he had seldom eaten with Ning Muyan. Most of the time, he ate the communal meals prepared by the head kitchen staff.
As he swallowed, he suddenly heard the young master ask something out of the blue. Bai Lan looked up, instinctively clutching his bundles, furrowing his brows in suspicion.
Why would he ask that? Surely he wasn’t trying to take them back—after all, Bai Lan was about to serve as his personal physician. He might be small-minded, but not that small-minded.
“I left them at home,” Bai Lan answered.
Ning Muyan’s face darkened slightly at the realization that Bai Lan hadn’t brought his belongings with him. Well, it didn’t matter.
“Hungry? There are some bamboo leaf cakes from the manor.”
He wanted them, but not entirely. Bai Lan shook his head. “Not yet.”
One shouldn’t eat much in a carriage; the bumps would make one nauseous, and he would need an empty stomach for the estate meal.
“Did you have breakfast before leaving?”
“Yes.”
“What did you eat?”
“Plain noodles.”
“Good?”
“Yes.”
“Did you make them?”
“Yes.”
Ning Muyan, ever curious, asked, “How did you make them?”
Bai Lan began explaining, “I just took the flour bought from the market, mixed it with water, kneaded it…” He stopped halfway, pressing his lips into a thin line.
“If you’re interested, Young Master, I can make a bowl for you at the estate,” Bai Lan offered.
Ning Muyan initially took the words at face value. He felt some pleasure that Bai Lan was offering to cook for him, but then he caught the slight impatience in Bai Lan’s tone and his eyes dimmed.
Even someone seasoned in politics couldn’t always read the heart of a young boy.
This scene reminded him of years past. When Bai Lan had first come to the estate, his grandmother had assigned him to the study. Bai Lan did not behave like the other maids; he didn’t flatter or play coy and didn’t know how to be attentive.
At that time, Ning Muyan had been busy preparing for the provincial examination, often sitting for an hour or two in the study. When he looked up, Bai Lan would be standing silently, holding tea, not calling him out. Ning Muyan, feeling pity, would invite him to sit and enjoy some cakes.
He would hold his book, glance at Bai Lan taking small bites at the table, his features softening. He wanted to speak but didn’t know how to chat casually with a young boy, though discussing state affairs came easily. They had struggled through awkward conversations many times.
Back then, he thought they were getting along well, unaware that Bai Lan had been holding back his true feelings. Now, Bai Lan’s emotions were genuine.
Thinking of this, Ning Muyan cleared his throat and, trying to ease the awkwardness, said, “Fine, then. For lunch, we’ll have your plain noodles.”
Bai Lan’s eyes widened. “Huh?!”